Thursday, February 10, 2005

fruit of the swine, work of human hands

it's late, i cannot sleep, my mind won't leave this world and venture into the uncharted depths of sweet unconciousness that my body craves like Namor, prince of atlantis craves salt water. i have smoked a half pack of cigarrettes, something i only do when i am trembling with the heady mixture of frustration and rage, with a pinch of fear.

it seems that the meek shall indeed inherit the earth, or more correctly, the weak shall band together to take down the (percieved) strong and make them impotent to escape to saftey. makes sense really, if you think about it. a bunch of hyenas band together to bring down the big game. those without band together to bring down those with. the rebel alliance brings down the empire and fucks up the deathstar (but they had a jedi helping). it is a balance. if they didn't, the strong would go around doing as they please, and even if they are benevolant, good will bearing strong, the weak see a threat, those with fragile egos and small penises see a threat to thier insignificant manhood, and the one is no match for the many, except if the one is bruce lee, which in this case, he isn't.

on a subconcious level, i know that no matter what happens, i will, much like gloria gaynor and later, cake, survive. but like the fighter who sees the kick coming and knows he cannot block it, i am anticipating the pain of impact, and my mind will not let it go, not even for a few hours in bed. so this is what jesus felt at the garden (not comparing myself to jesus).

yes, i did request the firing squad, and declined the blindfold and last cigarette. it is my self destructive nature, if things are going well i have to shake them up, i have burn the bridge while i am standing smack dab in the middle. conflict causes change which causes progress. i am sure there are happier and easier ways to progress, but i seem to tend toward the painful way.

parable of the scorpion. he wanted a ride on the frogs back across the river, the frog was like "fuck that, you will sting me." the scorpion is like "if i sting you, we both drown, so no i won't. halfway across, scorpion stings. as they drown, the frog is like "dude, what the hell did you do that for?" and the scorpion replies "it is my nature." dumb ass scorpion. why do i have to have his nature?

of course, i could be all wrong and worrying for naught, which would be fine with me.

but hey, at least i'm not on fire. that would suck and ruin my clothes.

time to brush up on epictetus, who knew how to handle such things. time for another smoke and another feeble attempt at sleep.